Here at Decider, we’ve committed ourselves to watching the pilots of pilot season and reporting back to you on whether or not you should see these brand new shows all the way through. We’ve even drawn up a super specific, highly scientific (totally kidding) rating system. Below, we clue you in on everything you need to know about Amazon’s new pilot The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. This is the latest from Gilmore Girls creator Amy Sherman-Palladino, and after countless episodes of Lorelai and Rory Gilmore bantering like a couple of dames from a 1950s comedy, Mrs. Maisel is Sherman-Palladino’s shot at doing actual 1950s comedy. Starring Rachel Brosnahan (House of Cards), Alex Borstein (Getting On), and Emmy-winner Tony Shalhoub, this is among the highest-profile Amazon pilots this year.

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel pilot is streaming on Prime Video now, part of Amazon’s pilot system, where viewers are asked to stream and review new shows to help determine which ones will make it to series.

A Guide to Our Rating System

Opening Shot: The opening of a pilot can set a mood for the entire show (think Six Feet Under); thus, we examine the first shot of each pilot.The Gist: The “who, what, where, when, why?” of the pilot.Our Take: What did we think? Are we desperate for more or desperate to get that hour back?Sex and Skin: That’s all you care about anyway, right? We let you know how quickly the show gets down and dirty.Parting Shot: Where does the pilot leave us? Hanging off a cliff, or running for the hills?Sleeper Star: Basically, someone in the cast who is not the top-billed star who shows great promise.Most Pilot-y Line: Pilots have a lot of work to do: world building, character establishing, and stakes raising. Sometimes that results in some pretty clunky dialogue.Our Call: We’ll let you know if you should, ahem, Stream It or Skip It.

Opening Shot: Our heroine, Miram “Midge” Maisel is giving a toast at her own wedding. It’s not tradition, she says, and as a good Jewish girl from New York City in the 1950s, she’d know from tradition. But she has something to say and, though it’ll take her four years and the better part of this pilot episode to figure it out, a gift for commanding a crowd. This opening scene is a direct and compact way of delivering the back story of Midge’s marriage to Joel Maisel (Michael Zegen, whom you’ll know from Boardwalk Empire and Frances Ha). They meet at Bryn Mawr, she a thrillingly strong-headed broad and he not quite the 6-4 blond she’d always dreamed of, but they get on so well. They’re pretty forward-thinking, for the 1950s, and you get a good sense that theirs will be a marriage of, if not equals, then at least respect and partnership. It’s a succinct way to get us up to speed when the plot suddenly lurches four years ahead.

The Gist: Four years on, Midge has everything she’s dreamed about: perfect husband, perfect Manhattan apartment, perfect brisket recipe. She’s the dynamo of the Upper West Side, two kids, wealthy parents, she checks her measurements every day to make sure she’s keeping her figure, and she’s got the rabbi coming over for Yom Kippur dinner. She’s also a motormouth the likes of which Rosalind Russell would have to mainline double espressos to match. She’s also an incredibly supportive partner for Joel’s after-hours stand-up comedy career. Sure, by day he’s a pencil-pushing suit, but by night, Midge is booking him at comedy clubs downtown where he gets some laughs with cribbed Bob Newhart routines. The Newhart stuff is the first crack that we see in Joel’s facade, but Midge is a real operator at the clubs, plying bookers with brisket to get Joel better time slots.

As you can probably guess, all this perfection can’t last. After Joel bombs one night at the club, he and Midge argue, and he tells her he’s leaving her. For his secretary, of all cliched things. Midge is devastated, but that’s nothing compared to her parents, who are through the roof, and because it’s the ’50s, it’s Midge they’re angry at for letting her marriage fall apart. She ends up boozy in a housecoat and nightgown, flouncing downtown to retrieve her brisket dish from the comedy club when she ends up stumbling onto the stage. And in her belligerent state, she ends up killing the audience dead with a rant that becomes an impromptu stand up routine. The butch bartender at the club, Suzie, sees a spark in Midge and ends up bailing her out of jail after a wardrobe malfunction gets her arrested for indecency. It’s an unlikely partnership, but Suzie wants to make Midge a star, and Midge clearly has more ambition in her than she’s been allowing for herself. BUT A LADY IN COMEDY?? Welcome to your series premise.

Our Take: As with all Amy Sherman-Palladino ventures, you’re either going to find the snappy dialogue, breakneck pace, and hyper-verbosity of the show charming, or you’re going to get steamrolled by it. Midge is a whole lot of character; she’s Lorelai Gilmore if all her neuroses got boiled away and you were left with pure concentrated brassy dame. It’s almost stressful watching the episode and wondering whether Brosnahan can handle the character, but she pretty much slays the performance. If you come to the show looking for Gilmore Girls allusions, you’re going to find them, particularly in Midge’s disapproving parents (Tony Shalhoub and Marin Hinkle). While they’re not estranged from their daughter, they’re certainly disapproving, and I don’t know what happened in Amy Sherman-Palladino’s life to make her so fascinated with the idea of rich people being horrible to their domestic help, but Midge’s dad is an absolute terror to their maid.

The 1950s atmosphere is thick and showy, taking cues from everything from Mad Men to Inside Llewyn Davis. The soundtrack is aggressive — wall-to-wall big-band standards play like your most pretentious friend’s Spotify list — and I am really on the fence about how the show is going to play with Luke Kirby as Lenny Bruce. Is he going to be a regular? The Miss Patty and/or Babbette of this particular comedy-club milieu? This could be a masterstroke, or it could get embarrassing in a hurry.

Sex and Skin: There’s a quick bit at Bryn Mawr where Joel and Midge are screwing up against a tree, plus a stripper at a comedy club, but none of that compared to the omg moment when Midge drops the top of her nightgown at the comedy club.

Parting Shot: A newly independent woman, Midge prepares to take on the comedy world.

Sleeper Star: This project could not be more tailored to make Rachel Brosnahan a star. Until now she’s been best known for roles on House of Cards and Manhattan, but if this pilot gets picked up, it could be a real showcase. Just as long as people don’t mistake her for Evan Rachel Wood, her Hollywood doppelganger.

Most Pilot-y Line: “Never listen to me, I’m crazy!” Midge yells to her college pals as they’re all getting their hoo-hahs bleached. Look out, we’ve got a wacky broad on our hands!

Our Call:Gilmore Girls succeeded because beneath the layer of quirk, there was heart and recognizable relationships. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is heavy on style, but if it can nail the substance, it might be Amy Sherman-Palladino’s next big hit. She’s got a great central performance to build around, but there’s some work to do.